


Keep On Climbing, Though The Ground Might Shake

by Eden Marie Dawson (GodDamnedPlums)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:25:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7560052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodDamnedPlums/pseuds/Eden%20Marie%20Dawson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel was getting a first hand experience on just why Dean Winchester had always complained so avidly about Witches and how much they sucked. Naturally cursed with a smart-ass mouth, Gabriel finds himself stuck not in another vessel, but a female-version of his own, true vessel: the one he had crafted himself, so it wasn't like he could just 'Angel out' and find a new meatsuit. The Witches had made sure of that. Now, Gabriel had to find his Soulmate, or risk remaining in this female form for the rest of eternity.</p><p>Only problem was, Gabriel didn't believe in the concept of Soulmates, and he only has one year to find this person before the change is permanent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dad damnit.

[](http://s349.photobucket.com/user/Sammy_Morenna/media/PicMonkey%20Image_zps4bfm2u1m.jpg.html)

The last thing that Gabriel had expected to happen after he had decided to formally become a permanent member of Team Free Will was to get caught off guard by a coven of Witches that the Winchesters had crossed paths with in the past. He was cussing up a blue streak, mentally, for even allowing himself to become distracted enough to not realize that he was being tailed, let alone for letting the bitches get close enough to knock him out. What they had used on him, some powdery substance that still itched inside his nose and made him want to sneeze, had been some pretty powerful shit if it was able to take out an Archangel.

Okay, so his Grace was still slightly diminished, but still, he wasn't a weakling. When Chuck had brought him back from the dead, thank you dear ol' Dad, he had only been able to restore a little of his Grace at the time. He had assured Gabriel that he would gain it back as time ticked by, and for now, he'd just have to be patient. The blonde wasn't about to complain, 'cause hey, he was alive again! Who would be so petty as to gripe and complain that they weren't immediately brought back to full power?

Looking at the situation before him, however, he wishes he had griped just a little bit. They had him sitting in a small circle, so small that he barely had enough room to flex his leg muscles, which were getting cramped from sitting in the same cross-legged possition for so long, with a ring of Holy fire surrounding him. Damn Witches had done their research, that much was perfectly clear. He let out another long, very dramatically drawn out sigh as he rested his chin in his hand.

"Are you broads going to do anything, or just sit around chit-chatting like a couple of old hens?"

The Witches had been chanting, some mixing up some kind of potion, or powder or...something, Gabriel couldn't rightly tell, nor did he really care, and some were mulling around, murmuring to one another, and every so often sparring a glance over toward Gabriel. He was beginning to twitch.

"The least you bitches could do is drop some candy in here or something. Maybe something a little more appealing to look at than you old hags." He knew he was being catty, but he also knew that no matter how much of his Grace was still lost, that he was still an Archangel, and he was about ninety-eight percent certain that none of these women had an angelblade hiding beneath their robes. So what was the worst thing that could happen?

He shouldn't have said that. Thinking back on it now, he shouldn't have said a lot of things that had come spouting so effortlessly from his lips. The Witches hadn't taken too kindly to his degrading speech, and thus had decided that the best course of action was not to try and find a way to kill him, but instead to curse him, trapping him in the body of a woman. Now, normally that wouldn't have been a big deal, 'cause he'd inhabited a female vessel before. He was technically genderless, though he did prefer his male meatsuit over anything else. He'd grown quite attached to things there. No, what the real fucking problem was that the curse itself could only be broken by the one and only person that was destined to be Gabriel's soulmate. It was like he had been dropped into some damned Disney movie, and he wasn't sure what pissed him off more, the fact that he was cursed, or the sound of the witches laughing at him.

They obviously hadn't taken into account the power of an Archangel's temper, for as soon as the Holy fire ring had been snuffed out, he was on them. They'd made a grave mistake, their last, truthfully, in thinking that by switching his sex that his strength, his power, would be diminished right along with it. How very, very wrong they were. Gabriel was the Archangel of Justice, and, well, he could think of a few good reasons as to why killing these hags would be considered 'just'.

While ganking the Witches had been gratifying, his euphoria only lasted for about three minutes, tops. When his temper began to simmer down, the reality of the situation crashed down upon him like a heavy weight, making him sink to his knees with a groan. "Oh come on.... I just got my body back! This isn't fair!"

Gabriel was met with silence, no matter how long he knelt there in the blood-soaked soil, shouting up at the sky. If he had been anywhere other than the middle of an abandoned corn field, the sight might have been a little upsetting to anyone passing by. He didn't want anyone to see him like this, with his clothes falling off of his...her....small and curvy frame, her considerably longer, sandy blonde hair framing a full, heartshaped face, and her golden eyes considerably wider and more doe-like. If this had been a consentual switch, he would've been more than happy to go strutting his stuff down the street, in front of the boys and Cas... 

"Oh, fuck me sideways.... Cas...." She groaned as she slammed her fists into the ground, temporarily forgetting that, with the way that she'd spoken her little brother's name, he'd probably come running to find her. Sure enough, there was a soft flutter of his trademark trench coat some few feet behind where she knelt.

"....Oh."

Oh? Fucking OH?! That was all that he had to say in a time like this?! Gabriel shot to her feet, surprisingly quick and nimble in her new form, but the fact that she was top-heavy now sent her wavering off balance. Castiel was at her side, right arm outstretched to brace a large hand on her hip, keeping her grounded. She didn't say thanks, and he didn't expect it. When she finally gathered the courage to meet her younger brother's eyes, she was both surprised and annoyed to find the edges of his eyes crinkled up, and his lower lip caught between his teeth as if he were trying to surpress a smile.

The son of a bitch was laughing at her!

"It's not funny, Cas!" She stomped her foot, making Castiel lose complete control over his ability to contain his laughter. He'd been hanging around Dean too much, she surmised, and crossed her arms beneath her chest, heaving a heavy sigh. 

"I'm sorry," he muttered through short intakes of breath, his gravely voice strained as he tried to regain his composure. "I've yet to see you take a female vessel. Did something happen to your old one?" He didn't see any remains of his male vessel, though, and tilted his head as he waited for an explination.

"That's because this is my old vessel. Fucking Witches cursed me, Cas, and now I'm stuck like this until I find my Soulmate! And you know I don't believe in that garbage!"

Castiel looked a little....hurt. "I believe in soulmates, Gabriel."

She snorted. "Yeah, that's because you already found someone to spend the rest of your life with. You knew you were going to end up with Dean the moment you laid a hand on him in Hell. Everyone did. Well, except Dean-O. Sometimes that man is thicker than wet cement."

Castiel raised the hand that wasn't pressed to her hip, still holding her up should she get to wavering again, and whacked her upside the head. She yelped and rubbed the offended spot, casting a glare up at him. "I'm not saying I'm sorry, Cas." 

"Regardless of whether or not you believe or not, Gabriel," Castiel continued on, as if choosing not to comment on it, "the spell can only be broken by your soulmate, which means that you can either begin a search for said person, or you can wallow in self-pity and remain a female for the rest of your days. Judging by the looks of this magic, it is very old, and I assume that Father would not have the energy to assist you again, so shortly after piecing you back together."

Castiel did have a good point, infuriatingly enough. Her lower lip pooched out in a pout as she stubbornly adverted her gaze to the side. "This completely sucks."

"I don't...." Castiel started, but Gabriel held up her hand and finished for him, "Understand that reference, yeah, I get it. Can we just... I need to find some clothes that fit. I am not parading around in front of Dean with my chest about to fall out of my shirt. As much as I'm sure that Dean-O would enjoy the show, I'm not in the mood to get smacked again." She added the last part fairly quickly when she noticed Castiel's shoulders stiffening. Seems her little brother was the jealous and protective type. Interesting.

Castiel curved his other hand around her hip and vanished with her in a flutter, appearing near the back of a chain of apartment stores, just one town over from where they lived in the Bunker. He'd been aiming for the town that they actually lived in, but since he wasn't used to traveling with anyone, let alone someone as powerful as Gabriel, he was just happy that they didn't crash land in a dumpster. Which Gabriel was happy about, too. Immensely.

She adjusted her shirt so that it hung in a more... decent way, and slid the belt from Castiel's trench coat to hold up her pants--she could've used something else, but the squeak of panic that left his lips when she pulled it from its loops made her grin. She stood up on her toes and patted Castiel on the top of his head. "Thank you, little brother. I'll see you back at home. I'm completely capable of taking care of my own shopping."

She could have snapped herself up a few outfits, something that would better suit this new female form, but that would take a lot of energy that she just didn't have right now. She'd only been back for a few months, so traveling by snap was enough to wear her down enough to need a nap in order to recharge her batteries. Oh, how she had wished she'd done just a tiny, little bit of griping when it came to getting her Grace back. But no, she'd been so elated to be back that she'd waved her hand dismissively and told her Father that he could take his time in restoring her to full power.

Fucking damn it. Oh, well, might as well just get things over and done with. She still had to go home and face the music when it came to telling Sam and Dean what happened. That was not a conversation that she was looking forward to. She closed her eyes and inhaled the stale air that blanketed the city streets before pushing open the door to the appparel shop and preparing herself for the onslaught of employees rushing to 'help' her.


	2. Finding Support In The Most Unlikely Of Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel knew she was going to be greeted with teasing and ridicule when she returned home to the bunker, but what she wasn't expecting was for Gigantor to be so....accepting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today guys, the next one will be longer, promise!

"You...you look so.... I can't believe it. Somehow you've gotten even shorter!"

Gabriel had returned to the bunker just a few hours after Cas had dropped her at the department store. It didn't take her too terribly long in the store, once she made it very clear that she was not going to be taken advantage of and sold the most expensive crap that the saleswoman could find, but she hadn't wanted to get back any sooner than she absolutely had to.

And this, Dean outright laughing in her face, was exactly the reason why she had chosen to walk home instead of calling Cas for a lift. She stood by the edge of the worn leather couch, picking away at a tear in the arm that had steadily been getting wider since she'd arrived home, her head bowed forward so that her long, slightly curled blonde hair was framing, and hiding, her face. She would not let Dean WInchester see how much his laughter was upsetting her, she would not.

"Dean, cut it out," Sam muttered from where he was standing, one broad shoulder pressed into the doorframe that lead into the bunker's kitchen. He had two beer bottles dangling from one hand, and the softest, most sympathetic smile on his face that Gabriel didn't see. She was too preoccupied with destroying the furniture and avoiding adding fuel to the fire when it came to Dean.

"Lighten up, Sammy. He's been fucking around with us for so long, he deserves a little payback!" The light tone was there in Dean's voice, but his words still cut through her like a knife through hot butter, making her shoulders tense beneath the cropped leather jacket she wore.

She had actually been pretty proud of her outfit: she'd chosen a pair of light grey skinny jeans, a black v-neck top that was cut just a little too low, and paired it with ankle high motorcycle boots and a black leather jacket that stopped just below the swell of her breasts. Certainly, Dean would have approved of her if he had met her in some sleazy bar, but no, he was too caught up in making fun of her. She heaved a heavy sigh, shifting her weight to her right leg. "Dean...."

"Shit, even your voice is higher! I mean, you didn't possess the manliest of voices to begin with," he was flat out grinning like a Cheshire Cat and Gabriel could feel tears starting to brim at the corners of her eyes. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

"Stop being such a jerk, Dean." Sam cut in again, but his voice was louder now. Gabriel lifted her head, surprised to find that he had loped across the living room and was now standing in front of her, holding out one of the beers. "Here. I was going to give this to Dean, but he's being an ass and you look like you could use a drink."

There was a faint muttering of 'Bitch' from behind Sam, but the taller male just shrugged it off. "So you want to tell us what happened? Cas wasn't much help, he just said that we would need to treat the situation delicately when you came home.... a concept that I think was completely lost on Dean." He sank into the comfortable wear of the couch, motioning for Gabriel to join him. 

"WItches happened, Sam. Fucking Witches." She sighed again, dropping down into the spot between Sam's body and the arm that she'd previously been destroying. Sam knew that things must be really bothering her if she didn't even opt for using one of the many, many nicknames that she'd come up with him since they'd met. He frowned, resting his temple in his palm, with his elbow resting on the back of the couch. "What would Witches want with you, though? No offense," he quickly added when he saw the way that Gabriel looked at him, "but a recovering Archangel with no attachment left to Heaven or the other Pagan Gods? It just....seems random, that's all."

"It might have been random, Sam, but my big mouth is what got me into this whole mess. I think they just wanted to trap me, to show these older Witches that they could do it. I could sense the power shift between the members of the Coven, so I'm assuming the ones who caught me were new to the craft and trying to make some big show out of capturing an Archangel, even a weakened one, to make a name for themselves." Sam nodded, seeming to follow along, so she continued, "but you know me, I shoot off at the mouth faster than your idiot brother does, and that's when the leader, the one I felt the most power coming off from, cursed me into this," she waved a hand over her body, but would not admit how pleased she was when Sam took the time to actually look at her.

"Couldn't you just angel-out into another meatsuit?" He asked, tipping the bottle back against his lips. He heard her sigh again and he found that he really hated how sad she sounded.

"No, I made this body myself, so it's no longer a vessel. It's all me in here, Sam, and because of that, I can't just up and leave it. I'd have no where to go except up, and I just got back down here, so I'm kind of wanting to stick around for a while longer."

"How long?" Sam asked after a long, mostly-uncomfortable moment of silence had fallen between them. Gabriel tipped her head back against the cushions of the couch. "One year. I have one year to find my soulmate, or I'm going to be stuck in this form for eternity. I'm not sure even Father could break apart that curse, the magic they were using is almost as old as I am."

"That shouldn't be too hard, though. You just have to find someone who loves you, right?" Sam asked, his wide-hazel eyes taking on that puppy expression. Gabriel could tell that he was trying to be helpful, but she shook her head and cast her own golden eyes downward, toward the beer that she'd still neglected to open. 

"I don't believe in soulmates, Sam. Hell, I don't really believe in monogomy, if we're going to be completely honest here. The longest relationship that I've ever had was with Kali, and she tried to kill me. Truth be told, the idea of one person becoming your whole reason for existance is a little frightening to me. It's like, all of a sudden, your freedom is just snatched away from you, and you can never get it back. You're tied to that person, bound to them for the entirety of their existance, and Sam, I'm basically immortal. I couldn't do that to some poor sap, forcing them to live forever while they'e got to watch their friends and loved ones wither and die around them. It wouldn't be fair." She finished her rant with a soft, sad exhale, finally twisting the top off of her beer and tipping the neck back against her lips.

"Gabe," Sam started, turning so that he had one knee bent on the couch, sitting sideways so he could face Gabriel. "If that person is really your soulmate, then they're not going to mind spending eternity with you. Hell, they'd be estatic because they get to live on forever, knowing that the one person in the whole world that loves them unconditionally would never leave them. That kind of stability is rare, in any circumstance. It doesn't have to mean a 'loss of freedom', but instead look at it as a 'gain of a lifelong frienship'. Sure, it would be sad when their friends and loved ones eventually pass, but it wouldn't be nearly as painful because they'd have you to lean on, Gabe. You would be their family. Personally, I think the idea of soulmates is--"

"If you say 'romantic', I'm shoving this stuffing into your mouth and choking you with it." She held up a ball of fluffy innerds that she'd plucked from the arm of the couch as proof of her threat. Sam just started laughing, making her lips upturn just slightly at the edges in a small smile as well.

"We'll figure something out, Gabe. You're part of this fucked up little family now, you know, and we always take care of our family."

This time when she felt the tears stinging the corners of her eyes, she didn't even try to stop them. Her angelic family was either dead, trapped, or refused to have anything to do with her, and her Pagan family liked to pretend now that she didn't even exist...which she supposed she deserved. She had lied to their faces about being an archangel and all, but at the time, it had just seemed right. She felt Sam's arm wrap around her shoulders, and leaned into the pull as she felt him tug her back toward his chest. 

"Thanks, Sammich," she muttered, ignoring the spark that ignited in her belly when she felt his chest begin to rumble with a light chuckle. "Anytime, Gabe. Anytime."


	3. Cheap Thrills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's irritated and in need of a drink or two. Cas is supportive, but mainly just along for the ride. Gabriel wants to ignore everything that's going on around her and just dance the night away, but what happens when some asshole decides that he's not going to let that happen for her? Sam gets dangerously protective, and revelations are brought to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time, but I wanted to get something posted for you guys~

"I don't think this is such a good idea," Sam complained for the umpteenth time that evening, leaning against the edge of the filth-slicked counter of the closest bar that Dean had been able to find. The last case that they had finished, a simple salt and burn, had left Dean feeling pumped with adrenelin and no way to release it, so he had drug Sam and Cas along with him to hustle some pool and throw back a few beers.

"Relax, Sammy! Gabe can take care of herself. Stop being so overprotetive and have some fun!" Dean was leaning beside him, his emerald gaze already a little hazy as he scanned the bar, looking for potential suckers that he could hustle. Sam sighed beside him.

That wasn't what he was referring to, however. What he was convinced about not being a good idea was bringing the Archangel along for the ride in the first place. Castiel had assured him, multiple times along with Dean, that even in her weakened state, she would be able to hold her own in a fight against most beings, but Sam was still.... nervous. Well, nervous wasn't really the right word. He couldn't put his finger on the right word, even if it was dancing at the tip of his tongue.

At least, he couldn't until he'd seen the way that several dozen pairs of greedy, lust-driven eyes had zeroed in on Gabriel the moment she walked in the door. Her dark wash jeans wore tight around her hips and thighs, slung low enough to reveal a section of smooth, tan skin between her belt and the edge of her cropped Foreginer t-shirt. She'd swiped it from Dean, and though he'd been pissed that she'd ripped it up, he'd shut up pretty damn quick himself when he saw her outfit for the night. She'd twisted her blonde hair into loose curls at the end, but left it down to cascade around her shoulders. Gabriel knew she looked good, better than that, and while she may have been enjoying the attention that she was recieving, Sam was ready to rip just about every man in the bar a new one if they even stepped one toe closer to her.

Jealousy. That's what he was feeling. It was a foreign concept to him, because he hadn't even been jealous in college when Jess had suggested a drunken threesome, which had actually ended up with him hanging around and watching for the majority of the evening, but then again, what college guy was going to complain about watching his girl go to town between another girl's legs? Yeah, exactly. Still, as he watched the blonde bombshell sashay her way out onto the dancefloor, the lights from above hitting her curves and accentuating her beauty in a way that should be illegal, he couldn't help but feel a nasty bile climbing to the back of his throat as he watched another man try to dance with her.

For the most part, she ignored them. Gabriel was enjoying the attention that she was getting, she always had, but for tonight, all she wanted to do was to lose herself in the music and forget about the troubles that were plauging her. She didn't want to think about soulmates and witches, curses and cures, and she didn't want to think about the way that Sam's hazel eyes, darkening with each sweep across her form that they took, made delightful little shivers run down her spine. She just wanted to feel the beat slipping into her veins, chasing away her worries and leaving her with a pleasant, numbing hum.

She wasn't that lucky. Gabriel's naturally provocative movements had attracted one of the sleazy regulars, who, by the looks of his disheleved apperance and dark look in his eyes, he was already three sheets to the wind. Half-way through the second song she'd started dancing to, she felt large, and very unwelcome, hands grasping at her hips and pulling her back against a beer-gut trapped behind a cheap suit. Gabriel tilted her head, giving her best glare up at the balding middle-aged man. 

"Ya looked like ya cou' use a par'ner..." His speech was slurred, and Gabriel wrinkled her nose at the offending scent of alcohol that met her senses. He had horrible taste in liqour, it seemed. Vaugely, she wondered what it was that had brought him to the bar on a daily basis; what was so terrible in his life that he had to chase it back with cheap booze and even cheaper women.

All curiousity drained from her being as those fat fingers of his started to curve upward and skate beneath the hem of her shirt. With movements mimicing the fluidity and grace of a cat, she arched away from his body and his touch, distancing herself from him as she fell back into the pattern of her dance. "Sorry, bucko, try another airline? You don't look like you could afford first class anyway."

A look of shock mixed with rage crossed the man's face. "Fucking slut. I'll show ya-" he had raised his hand, prepared to backhand Gabriel, who hadn't even shyed away from the action, when suddenly his wrist was grabbed and twisted painfully in a completely unnatural direction until the sound of bones snapping could be heard despite the pounding of the music through the large speakers. Gabriel's mouth fell open.

"Sam?" She spoke, a little shocked at how tentative her voice sounded. She was prepared to take on this man twice her size, knowing that it would have been a simple task, even at her weakened state, but Sam had taken it upon himself to carry out the punishment on his own terms. A crowd had gathered around when the sounds of the business man's pathetic howling grew to be louder than the music. Sam still hadn't released the man's wrist, despite having broken the bone.

"Sam!" This time it was a combination of Castiel and Dean yelling his name as they pushed through the crowd of whispering and gawking people. Some were even taking pictures and video on their cell phones. Fuck, that wasn't good, but Sam was hardly paying any attention at the moment. 

"The next time you want to raise your hand to a lady, make sure that she doesn't have one hell of a possessive boyfriend waiting for her at the bar." He tightened his fingers around the bruising flesh, elicting another sharp howl from the man on the floor. "Better yet, I think that you ought to apologize to every single woman in this bar, because it's a damn shame that women have to be subjected to the likes of assholes like you."

"I'm sorry... I-I'm sorry!" he was crying openly, unashamed due to the pain that Sam had put him in. The taller Winchester's upper lip curled back as he forcefully released the man's wrist, pushing him back to the floor when he had tried to stand. "You are pathetic. You don't even know the true meaning of pain, yet here you are, crying like I've just ripped your balls out through your throat, which is probably what you deserve. You make me sick."

The only reason that the bartender and the bouncer hadn't called the cops on Sam is because one, even they were a little frightened of the show of dominance that was being displayed, and two, they were both actually pretty impressed. As soon as Sam had released him, the business man had scrambled out of the bar as fast as his boots could take him, slipping and sliding the entire way. Sam let out a faint chuckle, shaking his head at the sight. It wasn't until he heard the sound of slow clapping, followed by an uproar of cheers, that he snapped out of his current 'killprotectkill' mindset. He looked around, eyeing the applauding crowd, spotting Castiel's pensive expression and Dean's look of worry mixed with pride, until finally, his gaze fell upon the blonde archangel that had sparked this sort of reaction in him. He felt his chest tighten, heat rising to his face as his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, trying to find the right words.

"I....Gabe...I..."

"Stop, Sam," she held up her right hand, the left staying clenched into a quivering fist at her side. Her golden eyes held a vast array of emotions, all muddled by a smokey texture that Sam just couldn't quite decipher. He shut his mouth immediately, hanging his head to avoid looking in her eyes.

Gabriel stood there, trying to calm her breathing. The noise of the crowd was grating on her ears, and even the music, which she had been so keen on enjoying, was starting to rake across her last nerve. She opened her eyes, unaware she had even closed them, and reached out to grasp Sam's closest arm. She pulled him through the crowd, the people easily parting for the two of them, though the whispers and whistles sounded as loud as if they had been yelling them. 

Gabriel pulled Sam out into the alley behind the bar, and before he could open his big trap and say something that would cause her to lose her nerve, the archangel tapped into some of her remaining grace, forcing the giant man back against the brick wall. She leaned up on her toes, molding her lips against his in a chaste but nonetheless passionate kiss that left her head spinning and Sam's eyes half-lidded and confused.

"....So you're my boyfriend, huh Sam?"


	4. Nothing in the cage of my ribcage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after Sam had pulled his little stunt, and Gabriel had expected them to be enjoying slow kisses and soft touches, still wrapped up in each other's arms from the previous night's rambunctious lovemaking. She did not expect to be fighting back tears after having spent most of the night arguing with Sam.

"I don't know what you want from me, Sam," Gabriel sighed as she flipped a page in the magazine that she had picked up only so that she had something to do with her hands while Sam paced around behind the couch. They had spent most of the previous night arguing about what happened in the bar, after the short and impromptu kiss that Gabriel was now beginning to think was all a huge mistake. The tall male uttered something beneath his breath and it was just enough pressure to snap the last of her patience. She slammed the magazine down onto the dingy coffee table and twisted until she was sitting on her knees, facing the back of the couch.

"I can understand that it's probably programmed into that damn male brain of yours that you have to protect women, but for fucks sake, Sam, normal people don't just spout off like that if there isn't something there! You were ready to rip that guy a new asshole, probably quite literally," she stressed that last word into four syllables, "and then after I kiss you, you throw me off like I'm some kind of diseased hooker? Excuse the fuck out of me for being just a tiny bit upset about that. Your mood swings are going to give me whiplash."

Speaking of, moodswings that is, she could feel another of hers coming on. Remembering last night, when Sam had braced his hands on her hips, dug his fingertips into the soft flesh above her belt....and then forcefully flung her back away from him, was painful, and it was causing her anger to receed into sadness again. Tears stung the corners of her already too-dried-out eyes. Her bottom lip was quivering, but she would be damned if she cried in front of him. ....Again. That's actually how this whole mess started. Sam had walked in on her while she was sitting on the cold bathroom tile, one of his flannel shirts flung over her bra and panty clad body, hugging her knees and crying into her folded arms.

"I told you I was sorry, Gabe...." Sam ran his hands over his face at the same time he spoke, effectively muffling his words and causing him to miss the wince that Gabriel gave when the nickname was so casually spoken. "I wasn't thinking. I mean, you're.... you're you!"

"Great way to save my self-esteem," she half-joked, her body visibly shrinking against the couch. Sam groaned again. "Look, Sam, it's fine. If you're not into me, I get it..." It hurt, but she could understand it.

"It's not that, it's..." Sam finally stopped trying to wear a hole in the floorboards and came around the edge of the couch to sit down beside her. He tugged her over by the waist, bringing her into his lap to face him. "You're my friend, Gabe. It hurt me a lot when you died, even though I didn't want to admit it. And when you came back, yeah, I was happy. Thrilled, actually. But then this happened and I can't help but..." His eyes trailed down the length of her body and he sighed.

"You want this body," she clarified, and she wasn't sure if she was relieved....or saddened further by the thought that it was, only, the body that he was interested in. Not the person inside it. When he didn't look up at her face, he knew which one it really was. "If you want a fuckbuddy, I can give you that...." she started, noticing how Sam's eyes shot upward to her face, eyebrows damn near in his hairline. This time she wasn't so lucky as to have him be distracted when she flinched at his reaction.

"That's not what you want." Sam spoke slowly, surely, as his eyes narrowed. She could feel her cheeks flushing as she looked down to where her fingernails were digging little crescent moons into the palms of her hands. "Doesn't matter what I want, Kiddo. Like Cassie, I'm indifferent to sexual orientation, so it didn't even cross my mind as strange when I started falling for you. I knew you were something that I wanted the moment I set eyes on you that first time, and I thought that you might have swung that way too, with the way you were flirting with me while you thought I was a janitor. Guess that was just to get information for the case." Her shoulders were beginning to sag. 

Sam wanted to correct her, but... she wasn't wrong. He had only been flirting then to get information for the case. He could tell that Gabriel had thought he was attractive, so he used the flirting angle to his advantage. He watched as she slid off his lap when he hadn't spoken in a couple minutes.

"Gabe, wait..." he reached out to take her hand, but she pulled it back just before their skin could make contact. "I can't, Sam. As pleasing as this body might be to look at, I prefer my male one, and in order to do that, I have to find someone who I'm not even sure exists, and I've only got about seven months left before my time is up and I'm stuck like this. So I'm sorry, but unless you're going to miraculously tell me that you've been lying to yourself this whole time, and you actually do have romantic feelings for me, and not just lustful vibrations for this body, then I've got to go."

Sam was wrestling with the inner demons of his mind and heart, his words caught on his tongue, pushing hard against the back of his teeth as he tried to get his lips to part and say something, anything, to keep her from walking out that door. Nothing came.

And so, she left. "Goodbye, Sam." The sad tone of her voice, paired with the backwards glance that she gave him, her golden eyes wet with tears, felt like a thousand tiny daggers piercing through his chest.

"But it is true...." he mumbled to the empty, now far too quiet, living room.


	5. Run Away With My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected but familiar face shows up in Gabriel's darkest hour, offering comfort, even if it is only temporary.

Drink after drink after drink, yet Gabriel couldn't seem to drown the pain that she was feeling deep in the pit of her belly. She was long past the point of caring what she looked like, hair still a tangled mess and make-up running down her cheeks, making her look like a water-color painting that Picasso had tried his hand at. She slammed back what she was certain was her fifth shot of Jack Daniels, the sweet burn not even enough to warm her up inside. Her heart was breaking, and she didn't even know why.

Except, that she did. She knew exactly why her chest felt like it had a ten-ton weight sitting on it, and why every breath she took in was stuttered as if she were constantly on the verge of bursting into another fit of uncontrollable tears. Sam Winchester was that reason, and as much as she hated to admit it, as much as it damn near killed her to do so, she was in love with the gigantic moose. She lowered the shot glass back to the bar, catching the sympathetic glance from the bartender, who soon just silently slid her the rest of the open bottle. She raised an eyebrow, but he only offered his condolences, and with a shrug, she tipped the bottle back against her lips. To hell with it.

"Don't you think that you should slow down?" The smooth, familar voice sent a jolt down her spine and she nearly toppled off the barstool when she tried to turn around. Okay, maybe she had had a little too much....

That might explain why she was now looking up into the bright green eyes of her eldest brother, Michael. He seemed to favor the vessel of young John, though...a closer look made Gabriel realize that it wasn't John's body at all. Sure, there were similarities, such as dark, near ink black hair and bright green eyes, with a strong jaw and full lips, but this body was all Michael. Had he somehow made his own, like Gabriel had? But...wait....

"How did you get out?" She blurted out, rather rudely, and her face tinged with red color when she caught herself. "Sorry..."

Michael just chuckled. It was strange to hear him laugh, even just a little bit. He had always been so formal, so....prim. A good Warrior, a good son. Everything Gabriel had not been. Okay, she was a tiny bit jealous.... sue her.

"Gabriel?" Oh, right, Michael had been speaking to her. She had been so lost in the past, sulking, really, that she hadn't heard a word he had said. This fact seemed to amuse the older brother. "I asked what you were doing here. I already learned from Father what has caused you to conform to....this..." and did his eyes just sweep her form? She swears they did. "but not as to what you are doing here, instead of at the Bunker where I was told you now live."

"You.... You went by the Bunker?" Oh no.... had he seen Sam? Did he tell him what happened? What was he going to think? Was he going to yell at her? She felt like her chest was tightening up, restricting her airflow. She was beginning to panic, so much that she didn't even register Michael's hands on her shoulders, shaking her back and forth like a rag doll. She barely heard him call her name, but the slight sting that was left on her right cheek when he slapped her was enough to bring her back to reality. Michael sighed, but his eyes betrayed his true feelings: Worry, confusion, and a tinge of anger. But at who?

"Gabriel, I want you to calm down and then explain to me what the hell is going on here." That authoritative voice sent shivers down her spine. It wasn't anything new, Gabriel had always loved her big brother. Everyone had assumed, before the Fall, that she favored Lucifer, and during the apocolypse, there was speculation that she would side with Michael in the end. Truthfully, she could never have chosen between them, and thus had died trying to help stop them from killing one another. Something that she had never wanted to see happen. Instead, they had both been trapped in Hell, along with the youngest Winchester boys. Which reminded her....

"Michael, how did you get out of the Cage? Where's Luci? Is he free? What about Sam?" Oh, just saying his name made her flinch. That was, apparently, all that Michael needed to know. He sighed as he brought one hand up to cup the back of her head, and pull her in close until she was pressed against his chest. His free arm went around her waist in what the older angel had hoped was a comforting embrace.

"I do not know how to answer how I was freed, little....sister." He chuckled at the indignant huff that Gabriel gave him. "I assume that it was Father's doing. As far as I am aware, Lucifer is still trapped there. And Sam..." He lifted her chin gently, using just the edge of his index finger, so that he could look into her eyes. "Is a fool."

Damn female hormones and their fucked up way of fluctuating at the worst possible times. Gabriel felt tears forming yet again, her brother's name coming out in a choked sob as she turned her head down and pressed her forehead hard against his shoulder. "I...don't...understand..." Each word was spoken between body-wracking sobs. Michael didn't even seem to mind that she was making a scene in the rather crowded bar. "What...What did I do...wrong? Why does...Why does it hurt? Make it stop, M-Michael...."

"I don't know if I can, Gabriel," he spoke softly into the top of her head as he combed his fingers through her slightly ratted blonde hair, careful of any snarls that his fingers might have found. Her shoulders slumped and she started to drop her arms back to her sides and pull away from him. Only....he wouldn't let her. She lifted her head slightly, confusion evident on her features as she sniffed. "Mikey?"

"I don't know if I can stop the pain, Gabriel," he repeated, his thumb brushing across her cheek, smearing her makeup even more. "But I can numb it for a little while, if you will let me." He moved his thumb over, brushing across the swell of her bottom lip. "Do you want me to help you numb the pain?"

Common sense was telling her to say no, her mind was telling her to say no, but her body was screaming at her to submit. She closed her eyes against the feeling of his hands on her skin and focused on what her heart was trying to tell her. It was just barely a whisper, pain-filled and broken, but when she opened her eyes again, golden meeting green, her lips formed one simple word against his thumb:

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think? Should I play through the smutty-smut of Gabriel/Michael? Or should I 'black screen' it and pick up with the aftermath of their night? Tell me your thoughts please!


	6. Angel Of The Morning

She was going to smite those damn birds if they didn't stop their damn chipper morning calls. The sun was just barely peeking out over the horizon and those fucking rats with wings were singing like they were auditioning for the remake of Mary Poppins. Gabriel's head felt like her brain was trying to push through her skull, and every high note that the birds hit made her feel like her brain was going to come seeping out of her ears at any give moment. She really would have done something to them, if she had had enough energy to even move her pinky toe, let alone actually smite something. She slugishly pulled the pillow out from under her head and drug it back overtop, blocking out the sunrays, at least. Her hand brushed against something smooth, but rock hard and warm, and it took all of her willpower not to just curl up into the side of said warmth and burrow into the covers.

"Sam..." She sighed softly, barely awake and still slightly fuzzy about the previous night's adventures. She would have been content to stay there, too, in that welcome hazy state of comfort, but all too soon she realized that the body that she was curled against did not, could not, belong to Sam. There were sculpted muscles, but by no means were they large enough to be proportionate to those of Sam's. Gabriel lifted her hand slowly, trailing her fingertips upward against the smooth skin of the male's flat chest, the curve of his neck and then finally, to the messy black tendrils of hair atop his head. This wasn't Sam. Then who....?

Michael. Last night's events rushed back to her, slapping her in the face like a wet towel. Headache and hangover be damned, she scrambled back away from her brother so fast that she tumbled out of the bed and onto her ass, her legs still tangled in a mess of sheets. The noise of her falling combined with a yelp of surprise at having fallen was enough for Michael to sit up, startled awake, and reach out for her out of instinct. The older angel's eyes were wild as he looked around for her, calming down only when he found her safe and sound on the floor by her side of the bed. He shifted onto his stomach, resting his chin on his folded forearms as he looked down at her.

"Good morning, Gabriel." He mused, brows knitting at the center as he took in her disheleved and panicked apperance. "I take it that you don't remember anything that happened last night."

"What...no, I...I remember...." She hadn't at first, and part of her wished that she still didn't. She brought her head down to her knees, her legs still tangled up in the sheets, her long blonde hair spilling forward around her tan skin. It hadn't occured to her to put any clothes on yet. "I'm so sorry, Michael... This was a mistake... a huge mistake."

If he had been hurt or offended, he didn't show it. Instead, he rolled off of the bed, unashamed of his nudity, and gathered both her white lacy bra and matching panties and handed them to her, gently nudging her thigh with his right foot to get her attention. Her face flushed red and she quickly snatched the garments away from him, earning her a chuckle from her big brother. "I knew that this was going to be a one time thing, Gabriel."

"And you're okay with that?" She asked as she slid the panties up her thighs and wiggled her hips into them. Michael had tilted his head to watch her, again, completely shameless in his obviousness. With the things that he had done to her last night, he didn't see any point in trying to be modest now. She was hooking her bra behind her when Michael spoke up again.

"I was offering you comfort and love, both things that you desperately needed, but were not getting from the source that you originally wanted. I could see it in your eyes, Gabriel, that you would have taken someone home last night, and I offered up myself so that I could make sure that you carried on this morning with a little of your dignity still kept in tact and that you didn't beat yourself up over this."

His words made sense, and she wouldn't deny how her Grace swelled with love, reaching out toward the older angel when he gave his explination. She hummed softly in appreciation when she felt Michael's Grace returning her intimate embrace. She started searching for her pants, both having to hold back a snicker of amusement and a moan of mortification when she noticed that her jeans had been thrown haphazardly over a lamp shade. She tugged them down and tried to balance herself on one foot so that she could step into them.

"But what am I going to tell Sam, Mikey?" She plopped down onto the bed, jeans left unbuttoned and feet bare as she swung them back and forth, her toes just barely scraping the ugly carpet of the motel room they were in. "I don't want to hurt him..."

"Didn't he hurt you? Isn't that how you ended up in bed with me in the first place?" Michael was sliding into his own jeans, boxers still left laying on the floor by the closet, forgotten or simply ignored. "I know you care for this human, Gabriel, but with the deadline that you have been given, I do not think it is wise to waste time with him."

"I guess...." She lowered her gaze to her hands, picking absently at the dark blue nail polish that she'd experimented with. Sam said his favorite color had been blue. "I just wish that I could know if it was him, you know?"

"If what was....oh, Gabriel, please tell me that you do not honestly think that that fool could be your soulmate?"

"Maybe? It's a possibilty, Mike! I never even believed in the things before this happened, but up until recently, Sam has been so sweet and so supportive, and...he looks at me. I mean, he really, really looks at me. Until recently, I thought... he was still seeing me, you know? The real me, 'vessel' be damned. But..."

"But? What exactly happened?" Michael joined her on the bed, offering her his button down shirt to wear since hers had gotten ripped in the haste last night. She slid it over her arms, hiking it up over her shoulders, but she didn't button it yet. "I accused him of only being interested in my female form. He shoved me away after I had kissed him behind the bar that he'd basically came to my rescue in." She relayed the story of the creepy businessman and how Sam had reacted, not lifting her head much as she spoke. She seemed incredibly interested in the chipping polish on her nails.

"Gabriel, I love you, but you are an idiot." Michael shook his head slowly, chuckling when she huffed beside him and jabbed her elbow into his ribs. "It sounds like this was a huge misunderstanding. You know that I am not a huge advocate for either of the Winchesters, but if you remember correctly, they did not have the same open-minded upbringing that we had. John Winchester was, for all intents and purposes, a great big bag of dicks." He paused to grin, and enjoy the laughter that bubbled to the surface from the female beside him. "Seriously, though, you should go talk to him."

Gabriel took several deep breaths before she nodded and stood up, padding to the door in her bare feet. She grabbed her boots, which were still laying discarded by the door, but stopped when she heard Michael clear his throat. He motioned to the shirt that she still hadn't unbuttoned. "As much as I am enjoying the view, you might want to button up."

Gabriel rolled her eyes a bit, but there was a smile gracing her lips that could only have been put there by the playful ribbing of being back with her family. She flipped Michael off, enjoying his own laughter as she buttoned her shirt on the way out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments are so greatly appreciated! They give me the push I need to keep updating these fics~ After all it helps me to know which ones y'all really want to see continued!
> 
> I am also taking requests, if anyone is interested. Will be setting up a Tumblr soon, but for now you can find me on Twitter at @Prey4Redemption ♥
> 
> (Little side note about requests, I do -not- write Major Character Death.)


	7. Hungover On You

"What the hell makes you think I'm going to let you in here after what you did to Sammy?" Dean was leaning his shoulder against the doorway, his large frame blocking Gabriel from entering, much to her irriation. They had been out here for a half an hour and she still hadn't made any headway with him.

"I told you, you asshat, I didn't do anything but kiss him that night at the bar! He's the one who pushed me away, he's the one who broke my heart, and he's the one that I want to be talking to right now, not you!" Her chest was heaving under the button-down that she was wearing, part of why Dean was so damn adamant about not letting her in. He could tell it wasn't hers or Sam's. But really, it meant no business of his what she was wearing, this was between her and Sam.

"I broke your heart?" Sam's voice came from somewhere behind Dean, Gabriel assumed it was the couch, since it was slightly muffled. Gabriel nailed Dean with a pointed glare, and with a murderous look of his own, he kicked off the door and moved to let her in. She took a moment to stick her tongue out at the elder Winchester, and said brother had to take a few moments to focus on his breathing, otherwise he would have broken his cardinal rule about never hitting a woman.

"Yes, Sam, you did." She came into the living room and was unsurprised to find that she had been right about where he was sitting. The large man was sitting on the couch, knees pulle up to his chest and his back pressed against one of the arms. Gabriel would have thought it was absolutely adorable if she didn't remember that she was supposed to be mad at him. One look in those big Hazel eyes of his, though, and it was hard to hold a flame of anger inside her. She dropped herself onto the couch and tugged at his legs until they were lowered, and she could tug them into her lap. She rested her hands on top of the jean-clad calves, looking at him through the corner of her eye. 

"Is that why you slept with someone else?" Sam's voice sounded tight and dry, like he hadn't had a single drop of water in days. Gabriel felt her cheeks flushing, and she lowered her gaze to her nails, which suddenly seemed very interesting. "I was hurting, Sam..."

"Who was it?" Hesitance, both on Sam and Gabriel's parts. Sam wasn't sure if he really wanted to know, and Gabriel wasn't sure if she should risk Michael's safety.

"...It was Michael. I didn't plan it, Sam, he just showed up. I guess Father freed him as well, but as far as I know, Lucifer is still in the cage." She didn't pretend like that fact wasn't painful for her. She still loved her brother. "He felt my pain, I think, and... and he knew about the timeline that I have. He said he knew that I was going to end up going home with someone, to try and be numb for a little while. I love him, but it's not like that. It's not....It's...."

Sam was torn between wanting to tug Gabriel into his lap because he could see the tears brimming at the corners of her eyes, and smacking her for thinking that he didn't want her and that she had to go off into some random stranger's arms just to be numb. He knew that all this was his fault, but she had to give him a little slack... he was still grappling with the idea of being in love with anyone since Jess had died, let alone being in love with a male archangel. He shook himself mentally and moved his legs out of Gabriel's lap, in favor of tugging her over and into his lap. He lowered his head, burying his face into the long golden locks and just taking a moment to take in her scent.

"Sam...?" She tried tentatively as she reached up to thread her fingers through his hair. Sam shuddered, hard, and a soft moan was muffled against her shoulder. Dean took that as his cue to leave, and soon the sound of the impala roaring to life could be heard outside. Gabriel rolled her eyes slightly, slightly amused by the hunter's behavior, but she soon turned her attention back to the large man before her.

"I love you," he mumbled into her hair, and though it was muffled, her angelic hearing picked up on it loud and clear. She moved backwards, whiskey-colored eyes wide as she stared at him in a strange mixture of uncertainty and hope. "You do?"

"Yes, Gabriel. I don't know when it happened, maybe I've always been in love with you and I was either too stubborn or too stupid to realize it, but I do, truly, love you. I'm sorry that I drove you away the other night... I was... I panicked. I haven't really cared for anyone since Jess died, and I guess I figured that if I allowed myself to care for you, that I'd end up losing you, too. I always felt like I was cursed or something...."

"Oh, Sam... my big, dumb, loveable Moose-man." She kissed his cheeks, forehead, nose and finally his lips as she spoke. "You are not cursed. You've had some bumps in the road, hell, I'd say you ran into a few potholes even, but you are definitely not cursed. ...Unless you count being tied to a person who steals the covers even though they don't need to sleep and eating up all the icecream in the house as being 'cursed'.

Sam went for a serious face as he tried to look throughtful. "That is pretty unberable to live with... Let me get back to you on that one."

The look on Gabriel's face was one that Sam wouldn't have missed for the world. Her mouth was hanging slightly open, full lips parted in a kind of shocked pout. He laughed and tugged her forward, crushing his lips against her still-parted ones, using this as an advantage to slide his tongue between them and deepen their second kiss. He was determined not to mess this one up.

A soft gasp of shock left her, swallowed up by Sam's mouth slanted over her own. She moved her hands from his chest, where they had been gripping his shirts--how long had they been there?--and moving them to slide into those gorgeous walnut colored locks of his. Sam groaned appreciatively when Gabriel tugged slighty on the long tresses, his large hands moving down to brace against her hips and position her so that she was sitting more comfortably, straddling his lap. If Gabriel had any doubt that she turned Sam on, female vessel or not, she wouldn't be able to deny it now, based on the hard, throbbing length that was pressing against her thigh.

"Sam," she gasped, having rocked her hips just slightly to get enough friction built up behind her jeans. She wanted him, needed him, but she couldn't force him into anything he didn't truly want. "Sam, please.."

While Gabriel didn't need to breathe, Sam, in fact, did, and as much as he hated to break the kiss, he was grateful when Gabriel did so first. He groaned, biting into his lower lip to try and focus on anything other than the warm heat that was pressing against his own groin. He had beem doing good in managing to maintain control of the situation, but with another roll of her hips and a soft, crude sound being moaned into his ear, Sam knew he had lost the battle, and he really couldn't care less.

His large hands gripped beneath her thighs and lifted her up, shifting her legs so that they could wrap around his waist. He considered, briefly, about leaving a note or some kind of sign for Dean when he decided to return, but the sounds that his beautiful angel was making in his ear was the final deciding point on the matter for him. If Dean happened to walk in on anything they were doing, well, he'd just consider it payback for when they were growing up.


	8. Only you can send me higher

Sam woke the next morning to an empty bed, cold sheets laying rumbled on the side where Gabriel had been just hours before. They had finally collapsed, exhausted, into each other's arms after what Sam could only describe as some of the most mindblowing sex that he had ever experienced. Not that he was as experienced as, say, Dean, but he wasn't a blushing virigin, either. Although, Gabriel did do some things to him last night that had him both blushing furiously and cussing up a storm as his back arched up off the bed. The archangel had made it clear last night that she had a filthy mouth and certainly knew how to use it. He lifted a hand and ran it down over the expanse of his face, trying to rid his eyes of the sleepy haze that seemed resiliant to his rapid-fire blinking. He sat up slowly, his muscles still sore from the number of different positions that he had taken Gabriel in last night, and though he was a bit fuzzy on the details, judging by the light thrum of his lower half, she had turned the tables on him at least once last night.

"Gabe?" Sam called, voice deep and slightly raspy. He faintly remembered just how loud they were, and silently prayed that Dean hadn't actually come back to the bunker last night. He rolled his legs to the side of the bed, shivering when his bare feet touched the cold floor. He didn't hear the shower running, and Gabriel's clothes were picked up from the various places that the articles had been thrown. Sam's stomach began to churn uncomfortably as he slid himself into the first pair of jeans that he could find. He chose not to bother with socks or a shirt, in favor of beginning the search for his sugar-loving archangel.

"Gabriel?" He couldn't keep the panic from rising in his voice. He'd searched half of the bunker already, and still he had come up empty-handed. Needless to say, when he finally found his angel, standing in the kitchen, facing away from him, he was far too relieved to notice one very important factor.

"Hey there, Sammich," Gabriel turned his head so that he could press a light kiss to the Hunter's jaw. The deep voice, paired with the slight stubble on Gabriel's jaw against his skin was enough to bring hazel eyes open wide. He pulled back, turning the angel around so that he could look at him. 

"Gabriel? You're...you're you again!" Why did he seem so surprised?

"Yes, Sam, I'm male again. I was always me, just in a different body." Gabriel was no longer smiling. Was Sam regretting this? The spell wouldn't have worn off if he hadn't found his soulmate, but it wasn't uncommon for soulmates to be platonic partners, and honestly, Gabriel wasn't quite sure he could handle that.

"So..so it worked." His eyes were roaming over Gabriel's form, causing the shorter male to squirm slightly under the scrunity. "Are you happy?"

Well that question took him by surprise. He furrowed his brow as he looked at Sam. "I'm genderless, Sam... it doesn't matter to me if I'm in a female or male form, though I'll be honest, I prefer my male one. The question is, are you happy?" With me, he added as an afterthought.

"I'm shocked. And confused, and a little sore from last night, but yes, I am still very happy with you." Gabriel's eyes widened. He knew he couldn't read his mind...and he hadn't said it outloud, so how...

"I can see it written all over your face, Gabe. I'm not quite as good at deciphering your facial expressions as I am with Dean, but I've been around you enough to know when you're feeling uncomfortable or insecure." He reached out to grasp the other's chin in his hand, tilting his head back so that he could peer into his eyes. "I meant what I said yesterday, Gabe... I love you. I'm sorry it took me so damn long to say it, but I truly do love you. And if you'll have me, I'd be more than content to spend the rest of my life with you." 

Damn that big, loveable, ass of a Moose! He was not going to cry. He wasn't. He blinked the threatening tears away and leaned up on his toes, a bit taller than he was yesterday, but still no where near the proper height for what he had planned, and pressed his lips firmly against the Hunter's own. He felt Sam smile against him just seconds before he felt himself being lifted up off the ground and placed onto the counter behind him. Sam hadn't broken the kiss in the lift, if anything, he pressed closer to try and deepen it.

Gabriel wanted to melt into the other's arms, to link his own arms around his neck and draw him in closer until they were pressed close enough together that not even a whisper could slip between them, but he needed to know that this was more than just reckless, albeit damn satisfying, sex that was between the two of them. Sam had just said that he had loved him, and every fiber of his being wanted to take him on his word, but he'd been jaded so deeply in the past by those three little words that his heart wouldn't let him. He reluctantly broke the kiss and pulled back, his lips twitching upward into a small smile when the action had pulled a whimper from the taller man.

"Sam, I need to know you're serious about this....about us." He raised his left hand, halting Sam before the words could be repeated. Sam closed his mouth with a snap, a frown setting on his face. Gabriel hated that he was the cause for that frown, but he had started this, so he had to push through. "I've been burned before, Sam... so badly that I didn't think that I'd ever let myself be that vulnerable again. I'm baring my all for you... my heart, my soul... I need to know that you're willing to do the same."

"How?" Sam finally asked after a very tense moment of silence had passed between them. His hands were still resting at Gabriel's hips, though the thumb of his right hand had begun rubbing small circles against the skin just above his hip. Gabriel took in a shuddering breath.

"Mate with me." The words felt like lead on the tip of his tongue. He knew that Sam had read about Angel lore, and he knew that he would know the implications involved with it. He knew that if he did this, he would belong to Gabriel, not just for the rest of his life, but for the afterlife, as well. He had been expecting the wide-eyed look and the sudden sharp intake of breath, but what he hadn't expected was Sam's almost immediate and rushed response.

"Yes." Sam moved his hands upward so that he was cupping Gabriel's face, bringing their lips together in another kiss, just as loving, but not kept as long this time. "Yes, Gabriel."

"I don't know what I did to deserve you, Sammy," he muttered, half of a laugh caught on the edge of his lips, but the sound was smothered because Sam was kissing him again, and holy hell, he didn't think he'd ever get tired of that. He lifted his hands to settle them into those impossibly soft, long locks, dragging him closer to his body.

"I should be saying that to you, Gabe," he whispered the words against his lips when, unfortunately, he had to pull back to suck in a much needed breath. "How do we go about this?"

"Don't you worry about a thing, Sammy..." Gabriel murmured, using the grip that he had on his hair as leverage to pull him back down into yet another kiss. "I'm going to take good care of you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This miiiiiight get a 'part 2' added to it. I'm not quite sure yet. Questions? Comments? Let me know what you think please!


End file.
